In My Veins
by ThatClutzsarahh
Summary: Everything they had worked for had gone when he made his choice. Years later he gets the chance to fix a wrong and the save the worlds. very much P/O
1. Chapter 1

**all right, since i've read some rather unplesant spoilers concerning this season, my muse was pretty much squash and kicked and sent through a blender on Oh Olivia. Instead of thinking of babies and unplesant spoilers, i've decided that i would make a t rated story. This is sent in the future and i must say, it will be very good. I'm proud of it myself. And the best part? NOT AU at all.**

**so suck it.**

**Anyone i own nothing. I'd like to own the show to make it much better than what i fear is coming. But since i wont ever have that chance, i'll write out my version.**

**T for some violence and swearing.**

**summary: introducing Lauren Bishop, small town waitress in New Mexico. Or, that's what she was.**

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"Hey Cutie," called a man from down at the opposite end of the diner's checkered counter, "How about another cup of coffee?"

The upsweep of dark hair bent underneath the counter poked up, piercing green eyes staring down at the weary man at the end of the counter. The trucker, a man in a red baseball cap, waved his cup towards her grumpily. She smiled and straightened her apron and grabbed the coffee pot, heading towards him.

"Maybe a few more cups might get that crank out of you," she said with a smile, "And John? For the last time, it's Lauren, please."

The man watched her pour the cup of coffee for him and he took a sip before looking at her with twinkling wrinkled brown eyes.

"Yes ma'am," he said, "As long as your bring me coffee like that, I'll call you whatever you'd like." He winked and she smiled herself before swinging back around to replace the coffee pot by the juice machine. Just then the kitchen bell rung throughout the air and the booming voice of Kyle, a red haired mid 50's cook with a thick mustache putting a plate of fries onto the ledge.

"Order up," he said, sliding the plate to her. She smiled at the cook and grabbed the plate, moving behind the diner's counter toward the window booths toward a pair of teenage boys sat, waiting for their food. Brushing a stray strand of hair that had fall from her up-do out of her face, she set the plate down and took a bottle of ketchup out of her apron.

"Eat up guys," she said, "Anything else I can get you?"

The boys smiled at her flirtatiously, sending looks to each other before one spoke.

"That's it for now," said the dark brown haired boy, "But come back later?"

Lauren rolled her eyes and didn't say anything. She walked away and back towards the diner's counter.

The hot New Mexico sun had long set over the desert and diner off of route 66 when Lauren started her shift. It was nearing midnight now and the diner was pretty much empty, a few straggling teens either coming or going to a party, a lost tourist, and two truckers were her costumers tonight. She looked out through the front windows into the desolent landscape. There were no headlights that she could see. Lauren sighed and returned to swiping big circles across the table that the tourist had sat at. He had left her a whopping $1.80 tip. Grumbling she had scooped it up and tucked it into her apron and headed back to hand the cook her dishes.

The diner had started as a side job to help pay for college. She worked after her last class on social justices on Thursdays and Saturdays and then full time on Mondays. It was only to pay for college. After college she was going to move away, somewhere nice, and live there. But when she finished, she couldn't find the will to just get up and move. She ended up working night shifts because she found herself liking the night the best, sleeping in during the hot New Mexican desert days in her little mobile home pressed against the butt of the rocky mountain range. She liked the warm sun, and she wasn't about to move back to Boston or anywhere on the east coast where her mother was.

Her mother was her own tragic story, the poor woman gone completely insane when Lauren moved away. There was nothing left for Lauren to do when it happened. Her mom was a secretive person, a trait that Lauren had inherited from her, and she guessed that one day, she had simply just cracked from all those secrets. She had never met her father, her mother told her he had died when she was very little, yet her mother kept his picture around the house, and Lauren looked at them a lot when she was little. She even took one with her when she moved. But Lauren had never met the man with green eyes and the same dark hair as her own. And when she had heard that her mother was being put into a sanitarium she had figured out that somehow it had to do with her father and his death. After all, when Lauren had last visited her mother she kept mumbling, "He's gone, he's gone" over and over again. According to her doctors, she wouldn't elaborate on the topic. When they were sure there was nothing that Lauren could do, she left for school again. She hadn't been back since.

She took her break after the teenage boys had left her a $15 tip and two phone numbers on their receipt. She swept up their plates from the table and had placed them in the sink on her way out back when she heard the door chime open. The elderly cook looked over at her and rolled his eyes. Sighing, she peeked down at her watch. It was just a bit past 1 in the morning. Grabbing a handful of menus, Lauren headed back out into the diner to find a small group of three men sitting near the window.

"Can I get you three anything to drink? Water? Coffee?" she asked, placing the menus down in front of them.

"Water please," said a man with a heavy British accent.

"I'll have the same," said the sandy haired man across from him. Lauren looked at the last man.

"Nothing," he answered. He picked up his menu and started look at it. Lauren walked away and got them their drinks, bringing them back.

"What can I get you?" she asked with a smile. The man with the accent spoke for the three of them.

"What is the roast beef sandwich like?"

"It's good," Lauren said with pep in her voice, "Jared makes the best roast beef around here. Where you guys from?"

"Somewhere you've never heard of, most likely," he answered cryptically. Lauren's eyes narrowed but then she smiled, not wanting to press the matter further.

"Okay," she answered, "Just passing through?"

"Something like that," he answered, "Three roast beef sandwiches with peppers please."

"Okay then, coming up," Lauren said, taking the menus from the men. She noticed the man that did not want a drink didn't look at her. Thinking nothing really of it, she picked up the menus and headed back to the chef.

"Three roast beef sandwiches," she said standing on her toes to look over the window. The cook eyed the men behind her. They were dressed to nicely to tourists or traveling salesmen. They looked as if they belonged in a large city.

"Where they from," the cook said. He considered Lauren his daughter. The young girl was attractive and innocent, naïve and stubborn as hell, throwing herself into danger because she didn't see it there. Ignorant.

"I don't know," Lauren answered, "Hey I'm going to use the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," the cook agreed. Lauren smiled at him. She hopped down and nearly bounded toward the back door. She stepped out into the cool desert air and toward the bathroom door. She locked the door and bent over the sink, looking at her reflection. It was then she heard the sound of footsteps. Where they leaving already?

At that very second the door burst open under the force of a foot kicking it. Wheeling around, she gripped the sink with her hands as the man that didn't speak came sauntering in.

"Please," she murmured," Whatever you want," she pleaded. The man gripped her arm forcefully and yanked, pulling her one arm of the sink and towards he door.

"This will be much easier if you don't struggle," he growled at her darkly. Panic floored itself through her veins, chased away by adrenialine. Feeling courageous, she ripped her arm from his. The behemoth of a man staggered toward her. She ducked a flying arm and kicked him hard in the shin, squeezing herself by him and into the night. She ran toward the back door, intent on getting the help from inside the diner, when a man came around the corner, the man with sandy hair, and lunged at her. She twisted away from him and turned toward the desert, a dead run as she went.

She could hear three distinct sets of running feet behind her. She ducked to the left and they followed. She realized she could lose them easily, as long as she kept running. Suddenly there was an explosion behind her and she saw a bush in front of her go up in flames. They were shooting at her, but she'd never seen a gun do that before. She faltered in her step for a moment, but scrambled into a sprint, heading for a nearby rock cove that she could sneak behind and take shelter from the onslaught of fire. There was some shouting behind her and she looked forward just as an explosion in front of her occurred sending her into a stumble. Before she could get up a burly man pounced on her.

"Stop," she screamed loudly, "You can have my money!" she screamed angrily, "Please just take it!"

She fought the man off with her fists and knees. She had managed to knee him in the gut, causing him to roll to the side in pain. But it was too late. Another man had come for her and grasped her wrists tightly. She kicked and screamed, but she had lost the fight. He hauled her to her feet and started to drag her, arm around her waist, toward the diner and their car.

"Please," she begged, "Let me go. I won't tell anyone I swear. What do you want from me? Please, let me go, I'll give you my money, just please-"

The man shoved her into the truck of their car roughly before dusting off his sui. The other two had caught up and where standing next to him.

"What do you want?" she hissed as they blocked her exit.

"Lauren Bishop," the man said with a heavy English accent, "You're a hard woman to find."

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	2. Chapter 2

**so first i want to thank my two lone reviewers for their support, it means alot to me. I know the first chater didn't offfer up much and i'm sure this next chapter will offer a bit less, but there is a method to my maddness, i promise. :D**

**T again, for language.**

**summary: Lauren travels between worlds. she meets alt-brandon who remembers her mother and then she meets walternate, her grandfather.**

**if i owned this, there would be a multitude of Peter babies

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"Get out."

The stern voice of the British man invaded her sleepy mind and she cracked an eye open to find it to be mid day somewhere. There was a heavy fog overhead darkening everything, and Lauren rolled over still trying to pull herself from her stupor when the burly man that had tackled her yanked her wrists together and snapped then into a zip tie. He hauled her up by the waist, swinging her over his shoulder and walking with her. Lauren beat the man's back with her fists in a futile attempt to hurt him. He swung her around, her legs hitting a doorframe and she cried out before stopping her movements.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking," she snapped as the man holding grunt in strain to open the motel door. Once opened, he carried her through the room and pushed aside the bathroom door, dumping her into the cold bathtub.

"Comfy?" asked the British man from the doorway.

"Five star hotel," she answered sardonically. The man chuckled.

"Well you certainly _sound_ like him. And you do _look_ like him, a bit. Prettier," he said, pushing off the doorframe.

"Who?" Lauren asked. But she wasn't going to get an answer as he shut the door. Scrambling to her feet she pounded on the door, turning the handle to find they had jammed something underneath it.

"If you keep it down," said the British man, "Then we won't have to sedate you."

"Sounds like a plan," she shot back, kicking the door hard. Turning back around she plopped down on the toilet and sighed angrily. What did these men want with her? She had never seen them before in her life, who were they? She shoved her hair from her face in an angry motion before settling back down and laying on the floor. Where was she even? Was she even in New Mexico anymore? What if these men had kidnapped her for human trafficking? Panic spread through her. But they knew her. They _knew_ her. They knew her first name and last name. They were looking for _her._ What did she have? She was nothing special, right?

There was a scraping sound against the door and it swung open to reveal the burly man that had carried her in there.

"Looks like you'll be departing sooner than expected," he said, reaching for her. She scrambled to stand, but his hand grabbed the back of her knee and dragged her to him. She twisted and kicked him in the knee and he growled angrily through gritted teeth, but hauled her up against him, tossing her once again over his shoulder.

"I'm not a sack of potatoes!" she said pointedly at him, "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"Didn't yours?" he answered as he walked.

"I don't think they apply to KIDNAPPERS."

"Shut up, Bishop."

That seemed to clam her up. No one had called her by her last name in a long time. She was just Lauren, L or Wren. She never was 'Bishop'. It wasn't even her mother's last name. Her mom was Dunham. She assumed it was her fathers, naturally. The man carried her into the room and tossed her down onto the bed. Panic set through her and terror flickered across her face.

"Relax _Love_," the British man sneered unhappily, "We're under orders to not harm you."

"Oh, well that's a relief," she answered coolly. "So when does my five star meal come?"

"You'll be out of here soon enough," the man said with an aggravated tone, "And then we won't have to deal with you." The man pulled out a fun device from his pocket and opened it. She heard some clacking and then he snapped it shut, nodding to the sandy haired man.

"Now _love_," the man said as he moved over to a briefcase near the T.V, "This will hurt if your struggle. So relax and you'll be fine. It'll be less of a mess for us here as well."

The sandy haired man spun around with a gun of some kind in his hand. He approached Lauren and yanked her arms out. Pressing the cool metal to her skin he pressed the trigger and she felt pain shoot through her left palm.

"Fuck!" she said loudly," That hurt."

The British man titled his head. The man placed it to her other hand and squeezed the trigger. It hurt less this time.

"Roll over," he commanded to her. Lauren glared and took a second too long to move, as the burly man that treated her as a vegetable sack flipped her and lifted the hem of her shirt.

"He-OUCH!" she said as the metal was pressed to her back. She was released and rolled over to stare at the men. The British man looked at his watch.

"Any moment now," he said. "Our meeting has been brief _love_, but certainly enjoyable."

"I have name," she growled.

"Have fun over there Bishop," he said in a condescending tone, "You might want to close your eyes now."

"What are y-"

But she was unable to finish her sentence as she felt a warm hum coming from her hands and back. Staring down at her hands she watched them glow and unnatural shade of red before they started vibrating back and forth. Lauren lifted her eyes in panic, meeting the face of the British man. He raised his hand and waved, a sudden blue flash blinding her. She shut her eyes as she felt like she was ripping apart at the seams for a split second. Then suddenly, the feeling was gone and all she felt was dizzy. She opened her eyes and blinked, adjusting to a very bright light flashing in her face.

She squeezed her eyes shut and peeked one open, adjusting still to the light. The invasion of the white made her head throb and she inhaled, feeling as if she wasn't getting enough air. Panicking, she popped both eyes open and struggled with breathing, fear written across her face.

"Relax," came a voice she had never heard before, "You'll be able to breathe regularly in a moment."

Lauren raised her hands to her face and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes before opening them again.

She wasn't in the hotel room she had been taken to. Instead she was greeted in a hospital style room with staunch walls. The green floral bedspread she had been sitting on had been changed to blank white sheets that were stretched over an uncomfortable mattress. She looked for the man who had spoken, a tall many with short brown hair dressed in a lab coat that stood a few feet from her. Carefully he reached for her hands and pulled them in front of her, cutting away the zip ties that bound her wrists together.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, setting down the scraps and picking up a clipboard.

"What happened?" she asked, feeling dazed and a little bit sick.

"Any dizziness?" the man asked avoiding her question.

"I'm just peachy thanks," she snapped at him. His writing faltered for a moment but he continued to write.

"Nothing?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said angrily, "How wait, minus the fact I was kidnapped. Where the hell am I?"

The man put down his clipboard and turned, heading for the door. Lauren stood up an attempt to go after him, but dizziness engulfed her and she collapsed onto the linoleum floor in a heap, rolling onto her back and groaning, staring at strange lights.

"Feeling sick now?" the man said, leering over her.

"Where am I?" she asked, clearly dazed. In a sweep he hauled her off the ground, one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders and placed her on the bed.

"It's best if you stay here for a while. I'll get you some I.V. fluid," he said turning around, "Try not to move too much."

"Where am I, please," she tried again, the pleading evident in her voice. The man stopped moving all together. His shoulders tensed and she swore she saw him shaking for a brief moment before he picked up his needle again, inserting it into the crease of her elbow. She looked up at the man's face and he looked in _pain_ as he inserted the needle. Lauren whimpered and lolled her head to the left, looking at the window that looked into a blank hallway. She was _terrified_.

"Please," she begged again. The man turned abruptly on his heel and exited quickly and Lauren wondered what she had said to upset him so much. Just as quickly as the door shut it opened again, this time to reveal a well dressed man with nearly white hair. He was old, very old, with a strong face and many wrinkles. He looked a healthy age of around 80 or so with strong features. His eyes were sharp and the stared at her without rest, looking her over as if she were some kind of object, rather than a person.

"So you're Lauren Bishop," he said, slowly closing the space between them. Lauren watched him watch her and he reminded her of a vulture circling their prey.

"Who are you? Where am I?" she asked him, trying to shift under his uncomfortable gaze.

"My name is Walter Bishop," he said, "And where you are, well it certainly isn't where you were."

"You're real smart," she snapped. The man's sharp eyes drew into narrow daggers and she almost flinched.

"You see Lauren," he said, "I've brought you here because my _son_," he spat out the word, "Failed to mention you even _existed_ over _there._"

"You act like I know what you're talking about," Lauren said, trying to stifle the questions that were bubbling in her throat.

"Don't act ignorant child," he snapped, "I know you're _her_ daughter and my son fell in love with _her_, which makes you my _son's _daughter."

"My father died."

"Did he now?" Walter said with a sickening gleam in his eyes. "How interesting that she would tell you that."

"How interesting that you don't believe me," she responded sardonically. The man frowned at her.

"You're a stubborn little brat," he commented angrily. He turned his back to her and walked towards the door. He gripped the door and then turned to look at her.

"I'll be back later with a guest," he said with a wicked smile.

"Who?"

"Your father."

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	3. Chapter 3

**oh my gosh! i went from 2 reviews to 11? someone tell me, what did i do right? That is like the biggest jump EVER! so i'm completely flattered and in love with every single one of those reviews and you reviewers. gosh you are so amazingly sweet and lovely! As promised, i bring a shiny new chapter. So it does get confusing, but i know what i'm doing and i promise (STORY SPOILER COVER YOUR EYES HERE) that peter isn't this mean the entire tale (UNCOVER YOUR EYES NOW)**

**andddddddd here we go, onto chapter three**

**Rated T, language again.**

**Summary: Meet Peter Bishop, who seemed to have changed for the worse over time?**

**if i owned this, i would never have thought of a vagenda carrying woman called alt-olivia whose vagenda target is Peter. There would only be peter babies and Olivia children. :D**

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Lauren felt as if she slept for days. When she finally felt awake, she stretched her body, feeling the ache of being cramped close in a tight ball, the same feeling she got when she felt like she overslept. As she shifted her legs she came into contact with something warm at the base of her bed. Her eyes flew open quickly and then shut at the invasion of light. She groaned and then opened them again, staring at the man that sat on her bed.

He was a well-dressed man with a strong face, rounded out at the bottom yet still defined. He was older but not old, around her mothers age of 50 or so. His eyes were piercing green, the same piercing that the man that claimed to be her grandfather had. He was dressed in a slimming grey suit with a blue shirt, his hand resting on her calf. Instantly she pulled it away, not wanting to touch this man. Could it be possible this was her father?

"Lauren?" he tried gently, taking in her features. She looked just like her mother, a strong face and green seas for eyes, filled with a haunted look. Her hair was different, a slight curl and a shade of brown that matched his own. Her green eyes were lined by thick dark lashes while her cheeks where dusted with freckles that he had counted on her mother, many many years ago.

"You're dead," Lauren stated. The man nearly rolled his eyes.

"Well that's a fabulous way to greet me," he answered her. Lauren straightened up.

"I know who you are," Lauren said, "But you're dead. You died before I was born."

Peter recoiled. After 23 years of searching for his daughter from the other side and Olivia told her that he had died? Why couldn't she have told her he left? The pain that Olivia thought him dead resounded through his body but he would not let it show, he could not let it show.

"You look so much like her," he said, letting his opinion slip past his façade. He hadn't spoken his mind in years and suddenly here was a daughter he never met and he spoke his mind to her like she would understand. She would never understand though. He wanted to reach out and touch her face or her hair. He wanted to be reminded of Olivia. But she recoiled.

"What do you want from me," she whispered, "Why did you have me kidnapped?"

"Things are never simple when it comes to you," he said, standing abruptly and turning on his heel, "It was never simple with your mother."

"Why did you have me kidnapped?" she tried again, her tone direct and fierce.

"I had to get you here," he said, folding his arms behind his back, "And there wasn't any other option."

"A phone call maybe? A letter? In the modern era there are many forms of communication. Have you tried texting, way better than kidnapping."

"It's not that simple!" he said angrily with the girl. Lauren narrowed her eyes at him, a silent threat she no doubt learned from her mother. He sighed in defeat.

"I've wanted to see you for so long," he said, making his way back to the bed where she was now sitting up in, "But I couldn't. It was not safe. You don't know how many days I've thought about your mother and you over there, alone in a world I wasn't in-"

"Over there?" Lauren asked, her tone cruel yet curious.

"The other universe," he said easily. Lauren looked at him as if her were crazy. "I know, it sounds insane, but believe me when I tell you this. You can't go home. You're stuck here, in this world. It's the same as yours, but there are some changes, some of them are small, others are fairly large. I grew up in your world, so I know the differences. But since you've come over here now, you won't be able to get back."

"But you're from here and my mom and I are from there…." She trailed, waiting for his explanation.

"Many years ago, I fell in love with your mother. But I didn't belong here. The universes were unbalanced. You world was close to exploding because I was there. So your mother made the ultimate choice. She tricked me into returning so that you could have a life, a chance to be born. And I never met you," he said, telling a story that weaved just enough truth with just enough lie. "So I searched for you. And since you are born of both worlds, you can live in both universes without worrying about balance."

"You left my mother?" she asked angrily, "Just like that, you let her trick you into leaving and you didn't _fight_ to come back?"

"Lauren you have to understand it was to sav-"

"I understand," Lauren said angrily, untwisting herself from the sheets, "You kidnapped me and brought me here because you wanted _me_!"

"Lauren," he said, "Please, calm down. Let me take you to our home, I can explain the rest there." He paused, his gaze calculating her next move. She had nowhere to go. She would not be returning home to her world, he had made his mind up about that.

"You don't want to stay in this hospital room forever, do you?" he tried, an eyebrow raised. Lauren huffed.

"No," she answered, "But I don't really want to go with you."

"Come, I'll give you some clothes to change into."

Lauren made her ay over to him where he picked up her arm gently. Peter pulled the I.V. needle from her arm and opened the door, letting her out in front of him. She waited and then followed him down the hall of the empty building, the white halls making her feel confined and restricted.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"My private hospital," he answered, opening the door to the building. She gazed outside, taking in the world. She was in Seattle, but there was no fog. Sandy beaches and hot sun greeted her. She was strangely confused by the weather pattern. Peter sensed her reserve and smiled gently.

"The weather patterns have switched here," he began, "So the current flows backwards. This is the same weather that exists in L.A. in your world. L.A. here is like Seattle."

He brushed past her and toward the limo, opening the door for her. "We have a private plane to catch," he said. Lauren tentatively entered the car where she was greeted by a pile of clothing. She picked it up and looked at it, rolling a red shirt between her fingers.

"It's the same size as your mother," he said with ease, "Her favorite color too," he lied. He scooted across the seats to face the rear of the limo. She was about to ask why when he put up the divider in the middle of the limo, giving her the privacy she needed to change. Grateful, she stripped and changed into the clothes he handed her, finding they fit well. Finding a blue button she pressed it and the divider went down to reveal her father, a leg draped casually over the other. He smiled at her. She gave him an uneasy smile back.

"If I can cross over," Lauren said, "Surely she can too?"

Peter frowned and sighed, his mind already working another easy lie.

"It works the same way as I did," he began, "She can't come over here, just as I couldn't have gone over there."

"But you did."

"But I did," he replied, "And I almost destroyed the worlds. Both of them."

"So if she were to cross over," Lauren began, "She could do the same thing."

"Yes."

For Lauren, that didn't sit right. She felt as if her father weren't telling her the whole story. She watched him through narrow eyes as he gazed out the window. He was lying, she could tell. She didn't know what he was lying about, but she knew it was something big, something important. She felt the car slow and she too looked out the window into the private airport. A large brown plane sat waiting for them, a symbol that looked like a presidential seal on the outside. As they drove closer she read DOD, department of Defense. She looked at her father and then the plane. Was her father the secretary of defense here?

"Since you said you came form over here," she asked as they stopped, "What happened to you, over there?"

"My father from over there," he spat, "Kidnapped me from here when I was very young. It was because I was sick both here and there and I had died over there. So he came here and stole me."

"When did you find out you were from over here?" she asked as they slid out of the car.

"A few years before you were born," he lied, "But I had already met your mother and fell in love wit her."

"Where did you meet?"

"A bar," he lied, climbing the steps to the airplane, "I was the bartender and she came in after work. It was love at first sight."

He turned his back and climbed into the plane. Lauren frowned. That story sounded rehearsed. She climbed up into the plane behind her father and entered the cabin, only to be greeted by a man with reddish hair and green eyes. He was perhaps a year or two older than her and he looked similar to her father. Lauren figured it out instantly. It was her brother. But her mother only had her. She never had a sibling. She knew it for a fact.

"Lauren," Peter said sitting down, "I'd like you to meet your older brother James."

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	4. Chapter 4

**thank you my lovely 4 reviwers! not quite the jump i saw before, but it's quite allright. In this chapter we see a little more back story. We see a little more about Peter and what made him how he is right now. anyway i cranked this out between homework assignments. The next one may be up by thursday at the latest. Anyway i hope i can get a few more reviews. Even if you want to critiize, please. i want to hear what YOU are thinking!**

**t for language and implications.**

**summary: Peter is the man he didn't want to be. But why?**

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She didn't say much on the plane ride over to New York. It was partly because she was asleep for some of the trip and partly because she was busy calculating things in her head. She had studied her father as she was falling asleep, watching him through shaded eyes as he stared out the window. He draped one leg over the other, his ankle hooking on his knee and his hands holding a glass of whisky. She noticed he remained unmarried and she wasn't sure if she was happy about that or upset. Her eyes wandered from him to her brother whom seemed to be absorbed by something in his hands.

She felt a pang run through her heart when she looked at him. Her mother only had her. She knew it for a fact. And yet here sat a man that looked like her father with red hair. Had he already had a family before he met her mother? Did he really love her mother at all then? These questions clouded her mind as she made a list of the things she knew about her father. Her father was a liar. Maybe not a liar, but he wasn't telling the truth. Was he leaving out parts for her protection or for his own? She also knew her father was checking his words. Was he doing this because he was the secretary of defense? That raised another question. How did a 'bartender' go from being a no one in one world and important in the next? Did it have to do with her 'grandfather'?

But as she filled her mind with those questions, her body begged for sleep, and she fell asleep on the plane, only to be awoken by a gentle nudge on her shoulder. Peering open one eye she rubbed her cheek and sat up, Peter right next to her.

"We're almost home," he said gently, but the words wouldn't sit with her.

"You're almost home," she corrected him groggily, and he chuckled under his breath as she stumbled up to stand. Righting herself she got off the plane and into yet another limo, heading off to New York City. It was just barely getting dark outside, and she figured it must have been around 5:30 in the evening. Her 'brother' climbed in after her and shut the door. He hadn't even spoken once to her yet, but she could see by the flexing of his jaw that he was every bit as uncomfortable in her presence as she was in his.

"Are you married to his mom?" Lauren asked bluntly, sick and tired of the silly lies her father was telling.

"No."

It was said with such frankness that she had to believe him. She looked at her father and then over to her 'brother' who stared at her blatantly. His gaze was critical and she frowned at him. His own smile was drawn into a frown itself, the lines on his puppy dog face drawn downwardly. His eyes judged her critically and she looked away from him.

"So tell me," she said, "Why did you come over to my world if you had a family over here?"

"It's not that simple."

"Of course it's not," Lauren answered angrily. His cryptic manner was bothering her immensely.

"Did he kidnap you too?" she said, turning to address James.

"No," he answered shortly. He wouldn't even look at Lauren. The temper inside Lauren flared but she kept it down, turning to stare out her own window.

"Dinner will be at the house tonight," Peter announced emotionlessly, "Tomorrow Lauren, James will take you shopping for clothes."

"You still live with your father?"

"You don't?" he asked her. Lauren's jaw snapped. James knew very well she didn't.

"No."

Just then the car pulled to a stop and a valet opened the door for them.

"Welcome home, Mr. Secretary."

James stepped out first and Lauren followed, gazing up at the large lavish building. She hadn't been to New York before, but she guessed this was near 5th avenue by the passing ladies dressed formally on the streets. Peter stepped from the limo and nodded to the valet before stuffing his hands in his pockets and heading into the building. Even the doorman greeted him as Mr. Secretary. Lauren trailed behind her father and brother as they entered a private elaborate elevator. She stared at the mirrored floor as it lifted them, carrying the three to the top penthouse of the building.

The view was more than amazing. The apartment looked out over the entire city, lights just beginning to glitter over the surface of the river swimming by the city. Lauren took in the luxurious place, ornate and antique furnishing decorating the gold and rich colored sitting room. She could see a set of entirely glass stairs to her left meeting a marble floor and a hallway down that direction. To her right she could hear the bustle in a kitchen, off somewhere behind the dining area that was placed over there. Another hallway extended down her right, and she could see a matching staircase further down. The place was over the top, a place fit for an extremely arrogant man.

"James will show you your rooms," her 'father' said from behind her.

"Multiple rooms," she murmured in a disgusted tone. Peter laughed. She looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"You sound just like me when I was your age," he said, his hand brushing her shoulder. She side-stepped away.

"Well I've been told I'm your daughter."

"You don't believe me?" he asked, feigning hurt in his voice. Lauren clenched her jaw again.

"No," Lauren said turning to him, "Because the man my mother told me about certainly couldn't be you."

Lauren had spotted James and twisted away from Peter as he froze there. There was something in her voice that sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine. Could have possibly been that she had told him the truth? Or was it because she had openly shared a memory of any kind with him? Was she taking to him already? He figured that's what it was- she was beginning to like him. He let a self-centered grin spread across his face as he turned his back and headed for his room.

Lauren had followed James down the hall and down yet another hall, stopping at a set of doors. His shoulders hunched and then he straightened out, standing up tall and stepping aside.

"These are yours," he said stiffly.

"Don't sound too excited," Lauren murmured.

"I won't."

Lauren glared at him angrily before opening the doors to the lavish suite room. To her left was a private bathroom and to her right was a closet.

"Do your rooms look like this too?" she asked, completely overwhelmed by the colors. Red was draped everywhere.

"Exactly the same."

Lauren looked at James. He was a tall, pride-filled man of around 25 with green eyes that mirrored her own and red hair. He looked identical to his father, her father.

"How come you're mother didn't marry him?"

"What?"

"Why didn't your mother marry him? She could have had all this."

Lauren spread her arms to signify everything. James looked at her, his eyes narrow as if she had just insulted him.

"You're mother had a choice to love him," he began, "My mother didn't."

Lauren's eyes went wide in terror. Her father was a liar, sure, but a bad man? Could it be possible? Before she could ask James if he meant what he had said, there was her father's voice ringing out for them. He turned faster than she could blink and she followed him down the hall and into the dining room.

The table was laid out with a gracious meal, Peter seating himself at the head of the table. Lauren took a seat down away from the man that she came to dislike more and more. He said nothing to her when she sat down, and they ate in silence. Lauren finished and sat there, fiddling with your napkin.

"You must be tired," Peter said, "Go ahead and go get some rest, you have a big day ahead of you."

"Okay," Lauren responded, heading off to her room. Peter watched her go and remained silent. He turned to James.

"How does she seem?" Peter asked. James shrugged.

"She doesn't believe you," he responded, "She's stubborn."

A ghost of a smile drifted across his face at the memory that Olivia was just as stubborn.

"Anything else?"

"She misses her home," he continued. James had always had an uncanny ability to read emotions. That was perhaps the reason for his doctorate in psychology. "And she doesn't think you're really her father. She has some memory, some childhood something that contradicts your existence and she clings to that. Maybe a story she heard from her mother. So she doesn't believe what you've got to say."

Peter stared down at his plate. He used to hate lying. Many years ago he was broken apart by lie after lie. James's mother was proof of a lie. But the moment Peter left, the moment he decided and picked _this_ side, he became an entire web of lies himself. He lied to himself because he didn't want to remember. He knew if he thought about her, alone and cold and giving birth to a beautiful baby girl in the lonely bright lights of Massive Dynamic that he would skip universes again. He would go back for her. But he lied to himself. He told himself she didn't want him. No one wanted him. But his father here wanted him.

So he found a way to justify him being here.

With a shove he left the table, wandering down the hall, intent on telling her the truth about himself. He was going to tell her that he left her mother, that he was the cause of any suffering she had, and that it was a good thing to tell her he had died somewhere. He was almost to her room, raising his hand to knock. What good would the truth do? He remembered both times he had heard the truth. They damaged. There was no healing. If he told her the truth, she'd hate him even more. He decided that for tonight, the truth would hurt her. She had just got here and he didn't want her to leave. Peter turned on his heel and went the other way quickly. Lying would be enough for now. He quickly composed himself and headed to his room.

Lauren had cried herself to sleep that night. Feeling alone and empty. Peter would never know.

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i want to hear what you have to say. reviews get you free cookies!


	5. Chapter 5

**first i want to apologize to my lovely 4 reviewers for taking so long to publish this next chapter. I had to watch the latest episode of fringe. i think those spoilers i read are squashed and thus i can continue with mutliple stories. However, i wnt to update this one. This is mostly a short filler chapter. i promise next chapter will be bad. in fact it's titled "All hell breaks loose" but in order to get there, you must first come through here. :)**

**And thank you so very much again my reviewers and fans! you don't know how much it means to me, like seriously, no words can explain it. Oh and PS. Peter made you all virtual cookies.**

**t for language.**

**summary: A surprise friend and a surprise visitor.**

**If i owned fringe i'd have the next episode on tomorrow night.**

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"You should know I hate buying clothes," Lauren snapped at James for the third time this morning. She didn't know what it was about the boy, but she did not like him. Maybe it was the way his eyes were cold and calculating or the sneer he gave her every time she looked over at him or maybe it was the way he flexed his jaw as if he wanted to just reach over and strangle her. Whatever it was, James scowled down at her.

"Well then, this should be fairly easy," he answered, striding forward into the large enclosed mall. Being a gentleman he held the door open for her and she stepped through, surveying the place. She recognized some stores instantly, while other store names were strange and foreign to her. James brushed past her and strode out in front of her, not waiting.

"Don't I get to pick a store?" Lauren asked as she jogged to catch up with her brother.

"We have an account at Sak's fifth avenue," he said.

"_You_ have an account there," Lauren corrected. James wheeled around to face her.

"You need to give up the idea that you're going home. You're not. You are home here," he hissed angrily, "You're not going to be rescued, you aren't a damsel in distress-"

"You know just as well as I do I was kidnapped," he said, her face inches from his, "Stop trying to make yourself feel better. You can be the richest man in the world, but you still are a criminal."

James jaw flexed and his green eyes flared. He spun around again and strode off toward the store. Lauren trailed behind him, flames licking from her eyes. He found the door and hauled it open, flinging it behind him and pressing his back to the glass. Lauren stopped and looked at him, her eyes reflecting the waves of anger on his body.

"You know what?" she said with a wicked smile, "Maybe I like to buy clothes."

James grunted in response, his teeth grinding together as she walked in front of him, entering the building. She stopped short, James nearly running into her. A salesman stepped forward, his small eyes huge and wide.

"Mr. Bishop," he said, "What can I do for you today? Clothes for the latest fiancé?"

"This is my sister," James answered, his hand shoving her forward at the small of her back, "She needs an entire wardrobe."

The salesman looked over her thin frame carefully. She must have looked like a mess, she wore the same red shirt she wore yesterday, along with a pair of brown cargo pants. Finally the man smiled at her.

"Perfect body," he said, causing Lauren to feel completely exposed, "We'll get you set right away."

"She needs everything," James said gently, "I mean _everything_."

Lauren blushed and smiled at the man weakly. The man grinned.

"You have no reason to be ashamed!" he said, "You are beautiful!"

And they were off.

Four and a half hours later Lauren was wriggling her way out of a skintight green gown from Dior while standing on sky-high stilettos. James sat just outside her door, his legs crossed just like Peter did with his as he typed away on what she assumed was his phone. She had just shimmied the fabric off her knees when she called over to him to attempt talking.

"What's it like here?"

"Normal."

Lauren twisted her mouth and nibbled her lip before sighing.

"Could you elaborate?" she asked, "I'm not exactly from here."

"Well," James said in a clearly annoyed tone, "I'm sure you're the same over there, we have school and college and jobs and cars-"

"I mean little things," she said, "Like your phone. I've never seen anything like it."

"Phone?" James said. Lauren came out of the dressing room with the green gown folded over her arm. James turned his head, "This is my phone, here. It's called a cuff."

"Then what's that?"

"This is my pad," he said, holding up the flexible material, "You do everything on it. You get one around 1st grade and you take tests and do homework and write on it."

"What about pens and paper?" Lauren asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Pens? I've heard of them. Never used one in my life."

Lauren nodded. James looked at her and sucked in his bottom lip. He features were relaxed and soft and he looked so much like her father it was uncanny.

"You going to get that?"

"No."

"Okay."

He held out his arm and she handed it to him to stick in the piles of nos. He checked his watch and smiled.

"We should get back. Dinner is in two hours."

"Okay," Lauren answered. She followed James down the stairs of the store and to the main counter where her clothes were strewn in bags behind it. James leaned up against the counter and pulled out a tiny silver card.

"On the tab, please?" he said, passing it over. The saleslady nodded.

"Yes, of course Mr. Bishop. Would you like us to cal the car around?"

"Please."

The woman picked up the phone and called around back as James looked at his pad. He frowned and Lauren frowned as well.

"Trouble?"

"No," he answered, stuffing the pad into his suit's inner pocket.

"Your car is out front Mr. Bishop," the woman said. A man in a suit held Laruen's bags in his hands. "Mr. Adams will help you out."

"Thank you," James said.

"Have a good day, Mr. Bishop."

"You too."

"Have a good day Ms. Bishop," she called as Lauren trailed behind James. Lauren smiled before ducking out the door and into the air of New York. James climbed into the limo and Lauren followed. When the trunk closed the driver started up the limo and merged into the traffic.

"What's your mom like?" Lauren blurted out before she could stop. James' green eyes met hers.

"I imagine a lot like your mom," he answered in the same cryptic manner that Peter held.

"Is she nice?" Lauren tried. He shrugged.

"I guess so," he answered, "She doesn't come around often, unless she wants something. She married someone else. She works a lot, too."

"Does she have any-"

"Other kids, no," James finished. Lauren nodded and looked out the window. She thought of her own mother and how she would never know she had just disappeared. The thought saddened and scared her. Her mother would be alone.

She felt an unsettling in her bones. Her father mysteriously comes to find her and tells her she can never see her mother again. He introduces her to this life as if she wants to stay around. But she doesn't want to stay. Lauren realized that this wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to be with her mother. This man, this lying, cynical, mysterious man was not her father. Who was he? She was pulled from her thoughts by the door to the limo opening as they arrived home.

James and Lauren had just entered the penthouse when they heard angry voices echoing through the house. Lauren looked at James. He had gone white as a sheet. He turned suddenly and nearly sprinted toward his room. Lauren and the bellhop with her bags headed toward her room and toward the angry voices.

"In there, please," said Lauren, pointing to her door. The man nodded and headed down the hall toward her room as Lauren continued the path to the angry sounds.

"You can't be here," she heard Peter's voice growl, "I gave you everything you asked for."

"But she's here," came a voice that sounded very familiar. Not trusting her ears, she inched closer.

"She isn't here!" Peter shouted, "Her-I mean my daughter is here, _Dunham_-"

Dunham? Surely not her mom's name? Was her mother here? Lauren stopped in front of the large oak doors as the woman spoke.

"And what about our son? Does he not matter-"

"Of course not," Peter hissed angrily, "He is your responsibility. You're his _mother_. You did this, you and my father. He won't fix anything because you aren't _her._ I spent 23 years looking for my daughter so I can fix the damage between the universes and you're here messing it all up-"

"You did that all your own," came her cool response. Lauren opened the door just then, absolutely certain that the voice belonged to her mother. But what she saw surprised her.

Peter looked up to meet the eyes of Lauren, his jaw clenched and knuckles white. Between the two of them stood a red haired slender woman. She turned and smiled at Lauren. Lauren did a double take.

"Mom?"

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reviews get you a plush leather interior 2011 chapter :)


	6. Chapter 6

**first i want to apologize for how long it took to post this. i wrote this an re wrote this and re wrote it again and again because i didn't like it. But now, i think i've got it were i want it. It explains some things, and this is were the P/O really begins. Again, sorry i took so long in publishing.**

**summary: All hell breaks loose.**

**T for lang.**

**i own nothing.**

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By his uncomfortable shifting Lauren could tell that he didn't want this to ever occur. Laruen stared at the woman- no-she stared at her _mother_ in confusion. She was locked up a whole universe away. She wasn't here. But this woman with her red hair, she looked so much like her _mother_. Lauren felt her head spinning in confusion. What was going on?

"You need to tell me the _truth_," Lauren ground out finally, angrily. Her fists were clenched and she blocked the door, Peter's only way out. Her mother-imposter crossed her thin arms and took a seat in a green velvet chair, a-was it a smirk?- on her face.

Peter's eyes shifted. His face was hard and stern when he looked at _her_ and it softened when he saw Lauren. He ached to tell her the truth. But he couldn't do that, not now when he needed her to fix both universes. But _she_ was here, and she runined _everything_, she always ruins _everything._ Her eyes danced with mirth. She was going to ruin something else and she was _happy_ about it. Why was she so vindictive?

"I don't need to tell you _anything_," Peter ground out through his teeth. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I was kidnapped," Lauren said, stepping forward, " I was lied to. I was told I can't go home. You haven't given me a reason to even believe you're my father-" She choked herself on, dropping her eyes to the floor to gather her volitale temper. She inhaled deeply and exhaled, bringing her eyes back up to meet his. Her stone cold gaze shocked him and she reached for the doorknob.

"My father was a good man. He loved my mother. She was right. My father died, a long time ago."

She turned quickly, shielding her eyes from him so he could not see her tears. She ripped the door open angrily and ran to her bedroom, flying past her room and into the vast bathroom, locking the door before sinking down the back of it.

She wanted to go home. Lauren knew, she _knew_, she didn't belong here. This man that kidnapped her, she didn't know him. She didn't _want_ to know him. Her whole body shook and she covered her ears as she heard voices, _angry_ voices approaching her.

"Peter," hissed the voice of her mother-imposter, "You think you're going to fix this-" she heard shuffling and fabric ruffling, "How do you fix this when you can't even seem to get it together yourself!"

"I'm under control _Dunham_," he said angrily, "Everything is under control."

"Nothing is under control!"

"Let me _handle_ it," he said, "You need to leave!"

"This isn't over, Mr. Secretary," she sneered, "I know what your kind is capable of. I will be back, she's in _danger_."

There was the sound of shuffling and the ding of an elevator before it went quiet. Lauren had long since stopped crying and now she felt the heat of anger through her skin. She was in _danger?_ She reached for the counter and stood on shaking feet. Her stomach lurched, but she didn't think anything of it. She stared at herself in the mirror. Gripping the counter she stared at her own green eyes darkly, the color clouding over. She demanded answers, and she needed them now. Turning on the water, she scrubbed at her face before leaving the room, grabbing a new coat.

Peter had dropped himself into a chair by the door, a glass of whiskey balanced on the arm of the chair and between his fingers. He saw Lauren come flying out from the hall from her room and he set his glass down, just in time to catch her as she headed for the elevator.

"Where are you going?" he asked angrily, gripping her upper arm tightly. She ripped it away from him and swung around, her eyes set. Determined.

"I'm going after _her,"_ she said, "She has answers."

"No!" he said, his voice cracking on the word. He startled her into a complete stand still. Eyes ablaze, she looked at him dangerously.

"Then you tell me exactly what is going on here," her voice low and dangerous, "Or I will leave and _never_ come back."

Peter looked at her, a mixture of shock and horror written on his face. Her eyes and her stature reminded him of the day he left, the day _she_ stood on one side of the door while he stood in the middle. Her eyes were flaring, her hand wrapped protectively over her stomach as she stared at him, dared him to come back. But he didn't. He wouldn't. _She_ stood on the other side with a small boy in her arms. But he still shivered as his daughter glared at him from his doorway.

"Your mother and I," he began in a soulless tone, "Were in love. We would never admit it of course, because we couldn't. You see she found me and blackmailed me into working with her to save the man she once loved. So we worked together. He died and I filled the hole. Your mother was able to cross universes, just like you, and when I got upset with her and left, she came back to get me. She told me she loved me. But there was a complication on our return home. She stayed here. That woman, the one you so willingly wanted to go with, took her place. She used me. And then, when I finally found out she wasn't her, it was too late. The damage had been done. Your mother came back, but she wasn't the same. We weren't the same."

"And then she got pregnant. Not you're mother, the other. That woman, Fauxlivia as we called her, she got pregnant suing some fancy high tech program that doesn't even exist in your universe. And somehow she was able to get pregnant with my child. And this was around the time when things started to work for us, things got easier. Your mother and I were fixing things. We were going to get married. We were going to start a family."

Peter sat down, exhausted, hoping that maybe there would be a hint of kindness in his daughter's eyes. But he saw none. She was cold and harsh, her gaze unwavering.

"And your mother got pregnant with you. And we were excited. But then things," he trailed, "Got bad. We fought. Things were happening that we couldn't explain. And we fought more and more. And then finally, one day there was this hole that opened up. On one side there was your mother and I, and the other, her with a baby boy, a beautiful red haired baby boy. And I had to make a choice. So I left. For here, for her."

At the very end of his story he was defeated, his tone low and guilty and his eyes staring at his clasped hands. There was, of course, a lot he left out that she didn't need to know, mostly to protect himself, but he told her just the base of it. There was the heavy weight of silence in the air and it hung for minutes on end. He could hear her breathing, it as gentle, cool and calm like her mother, but when he looked up all he saw were needles in her eyes.

"You left?" she whispered, "You left us."

"Yes."

Lauren couldn't wrap her head around it. Why would he come for her now, if he had made the choice years ago to leave her behind? She must have something he needs.

"What do you want from me?" she whispered in a harsh tone.

"Company."

"Bullshit," she answered, "A man like you, a coward, wants something."

Peter stood up at the insult, using his towering height and build he approached her, his eyes going icy cold and staring at hers, daring her, hoping that she would back down.

"What do I want, you ask?" he said in a cold and cruel voice, "There is a machine, a machine that was meant for me. But things have changed. I have children in two worlds. My son couldn't power it. So you can. You will create another world or you will destroy one."

"It will be mine, won't it? That's why you dragged me over here?" she shouted up at him.

"If you destroy worlds, then yes, that one."

"You know," she began angrily, grabbing her jacket again, "My mother loved you. And when I was little, she would tell me that he loved me too. She told me that my father was a hero, a man with pride and honesty and goodness in him. She loved you everyday, she told me. She kept your pictures. She kept your shirt. Hell she gave me one that said MIT. And I thought my father was a hero, a good man. But I see now that was a lie. You are no hero. You are not a father. You are a criminal. You are a murderer. You're arrogant and deceitful and will stop at nothing to get your way. You are a man that lacks the sensitivity that she told me you had. My mother loved a mad man. This is what drove her insane, the thought you were actually good. Now she doesn't even know my name. She doesn't even know what month it is-"

"What are you talking about," he hissed, gripping her arm. Lauren wretched it back, jutting her elbow out as if to hit him.

"My mother lives in Saint Claire's! She has lived there for the last 8 years, driven insane by your so called death! She loved you so much she went crazy! And you threw us away, like trash!"

Lauren spun, tears in her eyes and hit the elevator button. The doors opened easily and she climbed in, pressing the ground floor and never looking back.

Peter stood still in the room. It was like an ice bomb had frozen him still. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. Olivia would forever be in constant fear. And it is all his fault.

Peter sank to the floor of his oversized pent house and cried, feeling as if the universes were much too small.

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next chapter: Peter's tell all. a flashback to what really happened between Peter and our Olivia.


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